


Strangers on this road we are on

by LaFemmeDarla



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 04:29:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2335352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaFemmeDarla/pseuds/LaFemmeDarla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Alone, Varania tries to move on and ponders what she really wants from life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strangers on this road we are on

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the DARBB 2014. Art by SafetyTank ([x](http://safetytank.tumblr.com/post/98012294810/ayyyy-todays-submission-day-for-my-part-of-the-da))

The letter lies crumpled on the table while Varania does her best to ignore it. She briefly considers setting it in the fire just like the others, let the flames lick away those already familiar words. Lies, the lot of them! Instead she picks up her sewing - the dress must be finished by tomorrow - and focuses on the dainty stitches of the sleeve, hoping to find comfort in her work. Most of the times, it works - she may not be an apparentince, but she is skilled and her services as a tailor sought by many. But today she is doomed to be distracted, to glance back at the paper and resist the urge to pick it up again. 

She knows the words by memory now. If only it was true, she thinks. If only she could believe them! The old Varania would have accepted them. She would have written back inmediatly, booked passage on the next ship with the coin included with the letters. Mother would have been delighted! But Mother is gone and Varania knows better now.

The man the letter refers to - the man who calls himself Fenris - is not her brother. Not anymore. She can only depend on herself now.

The door opens and she looks up, dress and letter forgotten as the man - the _Magister_ steps into her home. She has only seen this man three times in her life and his presence opens old wounds, reminds Varania of how much she has lost. As if that letter was not enough! She wants to drop everything and run, leave both man and letter behind. 

Instead she stands up and places the dress on the table, dark green fabric covering the crumpled paper. She bows slightly and her voice is firm but respectful as she speaks.

"Magister Danarius."

"Varania," the Magister says as he closes the door behind him. He eyes the small room with mild amusement. Varania is certain there are closets in his mansion larger than her humble lodgins. 

"Looks like you've done well for yourself," he says as if they were old friends. "Freedom suits you, my dear!"

"Thank you, Magister," she says, voice tight. She may no longer be a slave, but one of the most powerful magisters of the Imperium is standing in front of her. A man who could have her life with a flick of his wrist. Or have her killed... Varania glances at the door, almost expecting to see _him_ enter. Of course, it doesn't happen. Like everyone else on Minrathous, she has heard the rumors about Danarius' most prized posession running away. As if freedom was something to treasure. She thinks of the letters again, of the invitation. She has burned them all but the more recent one but she realizes now not even fire will free her from their words. 

"I am told you are a tailor now," Danarius continues. "An honorable profession, or so I'm told. But I believe not the right one for a woman of your... talents."

Only the briefest of blinks betrays Varania's turmoil. Under different circunstances, she could have been just as skilled as the man in front of her. But Tevinter is not kind to those like her and she is close to accept her defeat. She has come a long way from the starving girl who had to see her mother waste away, but she will live up to her full potential.

"I'm afraid my talents don't put food on the table, Magister," Varania says and the man laughs.

"What a shame," he says. "I heard about it. Magister Ahriman thought you had talent, but there were others he considered worthier - people from good families who could pay their way into apprenticeship. A shame, indeed." He steps forward and places a hand on her shoulder - his touch is cold despite the heat and Varania does her best not to shudder. He looks at her in silence for a few moments, then smiles. "You deserve better, my dear."

Varania says nothing. Danarius moves away and feigns interest in a wall hanging, the only decoration she owns. "You are aware of what happened with my bodyguard," he says. He doesn't have to elaborate. "My apprentice tried to bring him back and she met an unfortunate end at his hands."

"I am sorry," Varania says, hating how foolish she sounds.

Danarius turns and moves towards the table. He touches the dress, almost as if he were admiring it, then moves it away, revealing the crumpled letter. He shows no surprise, of course. Varania was naive, not even considering that Danarius would find out about the correspondence.

"I am in need of a new apprentice," he says. "Many talented young men and women have written to me, telling me why I should take them in. They all have wonderful reasons, but you know what they don't have?" He picks the letter and looks at Varania "The means to bring my most prized possesion back to me."

Varania looks back at the table, where the dress still lies. Even if she wanted to, she knows it will never be finished now. Magister Danarius' offer is not to be rejected.

And even if she could, would she do it? This may be it, the last opportunity she will ever have to become a Magister. Maybe, just maybe, freedom will be worth something then.

"What do you need me to do?" she says.

 

* * *

Varania gets used to the ship quickly. It is apparently a skill to be admired for. The others are just as comfortable but they are used to it. Varania remembers an old seer in a small market on Minrathous. They all said she was a fraud but she was kind to Leto and Varania and predicted great things for them. Varania remembers the old woman telling her there would be a lot of sea travel in her future. Perhaps this is it, Varania thinks. She will be onboard ships more often in a few years as an apprentice and then as a magister, surrounded by people catering to her every whim.

She shares her small cabin with no one. As Danarius' future apprentice, she gets certain priviledges. Mostly she is left alone and she spends her time behind closed doors, pouring over tomes the Magister has given her. He was pleasantly surprised she could read - something she had learned thanks to a fellow servant in Magister Ahriman's home who had taken a liking to her. She had been sad when the old man had passed away, yet another loss in her life.

But things are changing, this time for good. Power is safety and becoming a magister will give her all that. For a price.

A part of her knows she is being callous, that she should care more about sacrificing her brother. But hadn't he competed once for power, as well as the boon that granted freedom to both Varania and Mother? They may had been slaves then, but they had had each other. Freedom has destroyed their family.

Varania remembers the time she saw him after the boon. She had been at the market, haggling over the price of a loaf of bread when Danarius had walked by, followed by the man she had once known as Leto. She wouldn't have recognized him if it wasn't for his eyes, so similar to her own. For the briefest of moments their eyes had met and she held her breath. The resemblance was there, but the man with the white hair and the markings on his face had not recognized her at all.

She had gone home, bread forgotten, and cried herself to sleep.

She had nevertold Mother about the encounter. Mother, who had taken in their suffering with a smile and fond thoughts of the sacrifice her son had made for them. She had not lasted long, eventually succumbing to a cough they could not afford to cure. There had been no time to grieve. Freedom meant barely scraping by.

At some point, Varania's pain had turned into rage.

Her brother had chosen his path. And so had she. 

* * *

Every other night, Danarius invites her to join him for dinner in his cabin.

The food and wine are excellent. Magisters certainly enjoy the finer things in life and Varania does her best to enjoy it too. Danarius tests her on the subjects she has been studying and seems pleasantly impressed by her knowledge. Eventually he dismisses her, ordering to focus on a certain chapter or spell.

This routine changes briefly the night before they reach Kikrwall. As Varania is taking her leave, she can hear the Magister speak.

"You shall be rewarded soon, Varania," he says "As soon as my pet is back on his leash."

For a moment she is too surprised to say or do anything, but she recovers quickly and leaves the cabin without looking back.

Varania spends all night sitting on her cot, a wisp of magical light hovering above her cupped hands as she stares at the door, not sure if she wants tomorrow to arrive.

* * *

It will be over soon , she tells herself as she sits on the filthy little tavern. She has to do this.

The Hanged Man is not what she had imagined. The letters had included enough coin to secure her passage - which had not been neccesary after all thanks to the Magister and which she brought along in a pouch sewn to her dress - she may be on her way to become Danarius' apprentice but she has know hunger and uncertainty long enough to want the money close to her. And yet the brother who offered to pay for her seems to favor filthy, cheap places.

Varania imagines him working hard, foregoing any luxury of pleasure to make sure he could bring her here...

She pushes the thought away. It will be over soon. If she thinks of Leto that way, it will be harder.

She remains calm even as the door opens and the man steps in, followed by another elf and two humans. He is older now, but she can see hints of the boy she remembers. Specially when he starts speaking, recalling their childhood with awe. The familiarity of his voice and his memories breaks something inside Varania. She had a whole speech prepared, short and cold, something to make him feel just as hurt and betrayed as she has felt all these years. But she cannot bring herself to say anything. Then Danarius comes down the stairs.

* * *

The battle is short and violent. Danarius and his men are strong, but Fenris is a force of nature and his companions are powerful in their own right. She presses herself against the nearest wall and closes her eyes, waiting for the fatal blow. It never ocurrs to her to aid Danarius. Perhaps she is not as callous as she thought.

Leto - Fenris - seems to have no such qualms. Once Danarius is dead he turns to her, murder in his gaze. She is surprised to hear herself begging for her life, even more surprised when one of the humans speaks up in Varania's defense.

She is spared and so she leaves, but not before facing Leto and giving him one more memory. It is not the speech she had carefully planned but it is enough to hurt him. Just like she had hoped to do.

Her very victory has a bitter taste, but is all she has now.

***

Alone in an unknown city, Varania hesitates when heading for the docks. The ship remains there, but there is no one left to order the crew to set course back to Minrathous, not to mention there would be too many questions. She still has the pouch. She could book passage on a ship and then...

And then what?

In the end the choice is taken out of her hands. A guard shouts at her for standing in the way, tells her to go back to the alienage where she belongs. He may be harsh and cruel, but Varania has had worse. Too tired and raw to start an argument, she makes her way into the city, a plan starting to form in her mind.

* * *

The alienage is overcrowded, dirty and loud. It is just as bad as she heard, but she has lived in worse places. People eye her suspictiously but her coin is good enough to secure her a small room. 

It will be alright, she tells herself. Varania is no stranger to rebuilding her life. It hurts having to do so after coming so close to achieve her goals.

Freedom is worth nothing without power. As much as Leto wants to deny it, he got the better end of the bargain. Varania tries to focus on this, to bring back the rage. But everytime she closes her eyes, she sees the hurt and betrayal in his face, the same look she probably had that day in the market. The more she thinks about it, the emptier she feels.

In the end she focuses on finding employment again. The moment she has needle and thread in her hands she finds something akin to comfort. She won't be living in luxury with her earnings but she makes enough and she gets her share of customers. She may not be the best mage in the Imperium but her other skills are good enough for this city. Keeping her magic to herself is easy and the Templars give her no trouble. After all, she is used to keeping her gaze down and staying out of sight. And after hearing stories about the way mages are treated here, she is grateful for it.

 

* * *

She has been living in the alienage for three months when her landlady, Leran, comes to her with a job. 

"My niece is a servant at this woman's house," Leran says. "The daughter is getting married but poor thing can't sew and they can't afford to order those fancy Orlesian night-dresses and night-caps. But there's still a lot of coin to be made there if you can work fast enough!"

And so Varania ends up in nice house in Hightown, listening patiently to a young, plump and giddy girl who can barely contain her excitement at her upcoming nuptials. Varania makes a few suggestions of her own, wages are agreed upon and she is even given a room the night before the bride is set to depart in order to finish the final details. She sits by the half opened window, enjoying the quiet as she works. She isn't sure how long she has been working but the silence is soon broken by a group of people walking by, making their way home after a few hours at the Rose probably.

"If I never have to see another dragon again I'll die happy," a female voice says and Varania looks up. She knows that voice. She opens the window just a little more a dares a glance outside.

There's three of them. The woman who just spoke is now saying goodbye to the other two. She is wearing worn armor, her dark short hair is in disarray and there's a dark smudge on her face, across her nose. The woman that plead for Varania's life in that tavern those months ago. She is hugging another woman, this one taller, curvier and louder. A blue scarf keeps her hair away from her face and moonlight catches on the heavy gold necklace around her neck. The first woman walks away and only two are left in the street. Varania focuses on the third person.

The street may be dimly lit but his white hair shines bright under the moonlight. The second woman moves closer to him.

"Just the two of us now," she says. "How about we go somewhere and we'll see if I guessed the color of your underclothes correctly?"

Varania is taken aback. But not as much as the woman when her brother replies.

"I think I would like that."

The woman takes one step back, eyes wide for a second before she smiles again. "Your place then?"

Varania cannot hear his response, but she sees them walk away, the woman's arm entwined with her brother's.

The sun is barely rising by the time Varania is done. She gathers her things and walks out of the house after receiving her last payment. The streets are deserted this early in the morning and so Varania is surprised when someone steps out of a mansion, a young woman adjusting her clothes - and her large golden necklace. She heads for the back alleys and so Varania heads for the main street, hoping they don't run into each other.

* * *

Varania offers to make some dresses for Leran as a thank you for the Hightown job. The older woman brings Varania tea and keeps Varania company, gossiping. Varania has little interest in the comings and goings of those in the alienage, but she lets Leran go on, for sometimes she speaks of others Varania has met.

The woman who saved Varania's life is known as Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall. She lives in the Amell State in Hightown with a well known apostate, a healer named Anders. Despite her high position, Hawke is known to spend most of her time in Lowtown, helping people. The woman he saw with Leto is called Isabela, a pirate who lives in tghe Hanged Man. Leto lives in Hightown and refuses to set foot in the alienage - that's a relief - and despite a deep hatred of mages, is known to help Hawke, someone who clearly favors mages.

There is however, according to Leran, one ally of Hawke living in the alienage, one Varania has worked hard to avoid, which is rather easy when this one spends most of her time either at her house or with Hawke. Her name is Merrill and based on Leran's description, she is the other elf that came into the tavern that day. There are rumors she is an apostate as well, but even if they were true, Hawke's influence ensures she is not bothered by the templars. Varania sews and listens to all this. She asks for no details when it comes to the comings and goings of her brother but she listens and takes in everything.

She is surprised to realize that after everything that's happened, she still worries about him.

***

Varania is helping Leran clean up the house the day the Chantry is blown up.

The city is in chaos. Leran tells her to bar the windows and lock the doors while she goes find her niece, for there are abominations and templars alike to fear. Curled into the farthest corner of her room, Varania waits for the night to end, doing her best to ignore the screaming outside.

She can hear demons whispering to her, luring her with pretty promises almost too good to be true. They showed her Mother still alive, Varania as a powerful magister, Danarius dying by her own hand.

They showed her embracing her brother, both of them finding safety and home together. And it is this promise which makes her waver and listen closely. She can almost feel her brother's arms, the comforting embrace she has missed all this years. 

_Why did you do it? We had so little back then but we had each other. We were a family and now we don't even have that anymore. I miss you, Leto._

But the one hugging her is not Leto. Not anymore. She has glimpses of white hair and bright lyrium. No longer the boy she grew up with. Still her brother and yet not the same. Her deepest wish - not a return to the way things were, but a hope for the future. 

_I will always take care of you and mother, Leto said. And so he competed to win freedrom for Mother and Varania. And then he was taken away just as Varania and Mother were thrown on the streets._

_I can give you power, Danarius said. And maybe he would have, the only price Varania's willingly betrayal of her brother._

The demons are no different.

Varania shouts at the voices to go away, for she will no longer be tempted by promises. She has no time to be relieved however, as she hears screaming outisde. She recognizes Leran's voice and she doesn't hesitate unlocking the door and running downstairs. She finds Leran and her niece outside, screaming as an abomination steps closer to her. Varania raises her hands, raising an ice wall between the women and the creature. It shields them enough, for now the abomination is more interested in the mage. Foolish thing to do! Varania thinks as she steps back. The creature takes a step towards her, hungry in its eyes. She holds her hands in front of her, the beginning of a spell burning between the. She never gets to use it.

It happens too fast. The abomination si there one moment and lying on the ground in two pieces instead, blood and guts staining the dirt and stone. 

She can see other demons and abomination dying as they're attacked. Some fall by magic, others by a well placed arrow or blade. A woman throws a knife that hits one in the middle of the eyes. Not just a woman- Isabela.

Varania turns again to the fallen abomination at her feet, then at the warrior taking down another one. A demon comes, intending to attack him from behind and Varania hits it with a cold spell. The warrior turns a few seconds later, in time to shatter the frozen demon to pieces. He looks at her and his eyes widen in recognition. 

Brother and sister stare at each other across the courtyard in silence, the chaos around them temporarily forgotten. 

They both called at the same time - her brother by the woman with the blades, Varania by Laren. Fenris - not, Leto, Fenris - gives her one last look before running after his friends. Varania rushes towards the women and guides them home. The alienage is safe - or safe as it can be under the circunstances - but Varania locks every single door and stands guard by the door just in case.

* * *

Leran leaves with her niece a few weeks later, too terrified after what happened. She invites Varania to come along, telling her Leran's brother in Ostwick will welcome all of them. Neither one mentions Varania's magic.

In the end Varania stays. Templars will be looking for apostates on the run after all. Her savings are enough to keep her afloat until she finds employment or decides it is safe to go. She finds new lodgins and stays out of the Templars way, listening to conflicting stories about what happened that night. Only few things are certain: The Chantry has been destroyed, the Champion as her friends are gone and other circles across Thedas are rebelling in response to what happened. No one knows where the Champion is gone, though most agree they all went her sepparate ways and the Champion and her apostate lover took off first.

Varania listens to each rumor carefully, relieved when most reports agree that her brother made it out. There are stories about a pair of pirates taking on slaver ships, the descriptions of both of them rather familiar.

***

A year after the explosion, Varania moves to Ostwick. Leran's brother is a merchant and he offers Varania a job behind the counter of his store in payment for helping Leran back in Kikrwall. The coin is good, but it doesn't offer the comfort of sewing and dress making. more often than not, Varania takes on such work, retiring to her room and letting her mind drift as she sews.

On one of such ocassions she finds herself making a tunic for Leran's brother. She doesn't look up when the door opens, too focused on her work. 

"I thought you were visiting your niece," she says, used to Leran coming from to time to talk. When Leran doesn't answer Varania looks up, hands frozen in the middle of a stitch. this is not Leran.

The armor is gone, replaced with dark trousers and a brown tunic (he is even wearing boots!) Gone is also the badly cut hair - he now wears it longer and pulled away from his face. It makes him look softer, even more familiar than before. how many times didn't Mother pull his hair away from his face a tied it with a piece of leather while she found the time to cut it?

They look at each other from across the room, neither one saying anything. Eventually Varania looks down and resumes her work. When he says nothing she sights. 

"Hello, brother," she says. She can't bring herself to say the name she prefers aloud.

"Varania," he replies.

More silence. She looks down at the tunic in her hands for a moment before putting it away on a nearby basket. 

"You look good," she says, gesturing toward an empty chair. He hesitates before taking a few steps towards it.

"So do you," he replies as he takes a seat. "You made it out of Kirkwall."

"So did you. I heard you took on piracy."

He smiles a little. "I suppose I did. I heard you remained in Kikrwall for a while."

She keeps her expression neutral even if her mind is in turmoil.

"Why are you here?" she asks, a bit more harshly that she had intended. He sights and looks away.

"I'm not sure," he says. "We are docking here for a few days and Varric mentioned you were living here now. I thought I'd...." He looks at her, lost for words.

She dimly recalls that name from Leran's stories - another friend of the Champion, the dwarf. So she is not the only one looking for information on her sibling. Looking at him stting across from her, something shatters inside Varania, not unlike their encounter at the Hanged Man. She recalls the day of the explosion, the offer from the demon. It could have been so easy to fall for it and yet she refused. Because she wanted it, but not like that.

"I miss you," she finally says. "The brother I grew up with, I mean. I know he is gone."

"I don't remember," he says. "I remember some some things. Flashes of different times and faces, but that's it."

"We'll never get those years back."

"We won't," he whispers. And she can hear the sadness in his voice.

She looks at him and reaches up, placing one hand on top of his. He looks at this gesture in surprise, but doesn't move move away, nor does he make any attempt to move forward. 

"Perhaps we could start over," she says. There is so much anger and pain between them. But now, with him there, she finds herself willing to put it all aside. Or at least try.

He looks at her hand on top of his, saying nothing. Finally, she sees a hint of a smile as he raises his gaze, green eyes so similar to her own.

"Perhaps," he says.

She smiles at him. "I'll make us some tea and perhaps we can talka little?"

He nods.

It is not the warm, comforting hug of two siblings apart for so many years, but it is a start.


End file.
